


The Heister's Guide to Making Bank

by Slysheen



Category: PAYDAY (Video Games)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:56:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3135266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slysheen/pseuds/Slysheen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dallas's journey will take him from smalltime crook to "the face that everyone fears" thanks to a little help from his friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Step 1: A foolproof plan.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello fellow heisters, this is a project I've been wanting to do for a long time. A history of the Payday gang throughout Payday: the Heist to Payday 2 as I've played it. The web series was a good idea and is just fine in itself but it wasn't the story I've lived through, so now I will tell the story of Payday as I remember it, broken drills, bulldozers in trucks and all. Most of the plot points will be the ones Overkill has fed us but how we get from A to B will be in my hands and hopefully you will like where I take us.

_September 18, 2011 First World Bank, New York, 12:12 P.M._

 

            The blue sedan pulled to the back of the First World Bank. The driver checked back and forth cautiously before pulling down into the subterranean loading/unloading bay. He hit the reverse and slowly but surely parallel parked into the alcove the unloaders used to bring supplies into the building, luckily there were no shipments scheduled for today…

 

            Bank manager Nathan Steele turned the key and let the engine rumble down into silence, letting his paranoia get the best of him he strolled down the tunnel to check his handiwork. No visual at 12 meters. _Perfect._ He popped the trunk and unloaded two large bags. He tested the heavier of the two with a grunt, heavy but manageable. He slammed the trunk and grabbed the second one, this might be harder than he thought. He lugged the bags into the maintenance corridor, already getting a little short of breath, hopefully they would assume it was just his smoker’s lung. The stairs were absolute agony, he stopped at the top and caught his breath. When all was well he picked up the bags and opened the conference room door.

 

“Hey Nathan, you’re late!” one of the accounts gave him a cheery wave.

“Sorry Jim, dentist appointment.” he nodded back with a smile.

“Nice bags, finally hitting the gym?”

“Yeah, figured I might as well before I can claim arthritis as an excuse.”

“I hear ya, good for you then.”

“Nice talking to you Jim, I better get back to work though.” he trailed off.

“Sure Nathan, best of luck.”

 

            The back hallway was the longest hallway in the goddamn world. Luckily nobody spared him as much as a glance. His office finally came into view and he slipped inside dropping the bags with a groan and a few quick shoulder stretches. The office was small, simple, and efficient, _corporate at it’s finest_. He pulled the blinds on the back window and opened his laptop. The various camera feeds of the bank flickered past, bored guards leaning against doorframes, tellers processing customer after customer, plastic smiles never leaving their faces. One feed met with gray static, _Malfunction, I wonder how that could’ve happened._ Taking a quick note of the room he picked the bags back up. _Server Room_.

 

            The slot flashed green and he shouldered the door open. Shelves upon shelves of odds and ends that were the lifeblood of the bank greeted him. Most importantly against the west wall, the office copier, it was just far enough from the wall for a tube of gift wrap to fit between, _or a thin can._ He pulled the zipper and took the first of two yellow jerry cans and carefully slid it behind the copier with a soft sprinkling sound. He took a look from multiple angles, satisfied he opened a low cupboard and slid a heavy drill inside, one strong enough to breach almost anything, or so he hoped. He approached the door and before he left, flipped the switch on the “malfunctioning” camera, the feed popped back into view none the wiser. _Now the wait._

            The clock finally struck 3:50, _smoke break._ Steele left through the same maintenance staircase. The sedan was right where he left it, still unmolested. He leaned up against the back window and finally drew in the first breath of heavenly nicotine. He glanced over to the side and watched another man approach, bald and with a beard that blew Steele’s out of the water. He leaned against the hood casually.

“Nice to see you Steele.” he greeted him, soft anticipatory smile in place and eyes full of suppressed glee.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“Figured I’d stop by and see if you needed a hand.” He had a deep comforting voice, when the role required it. Steele sighed,

“It’s been a little rough, but after today I should have a new lease on life.”

“Oh, the courier side job is going okay than?”

“As well as could be expected, a bit heavy but I’m expecting one hell of a payday from it.” Steele shrugged.

“Oh I’m sure it’ll come, you’re lucky enough.” the man assured him before glancing at his watch.

“Shit I’m late, would you mind if I borrowed your car real quick Nath?”

“Knock yourself out.”, he tossed the keys over.

“Thanks, you won’t regret this.” the man entered the driver’s seat and the engine roared to life.

“Hey are we still on for Saturday?” he shouted over the engine.

“4:15 right?” Dallas shouted for clarification.

“Yeah!”

“Sure!” he answered.

“Sweet.” Wolf smiled and pulled away, up and out of sight.

 

***

            Dallas twisted the cigarette in his hand, reflecting on the plan. He hadn’t know Wolf for more than a week, but his contact assured him he was the best in the business where tech was concerned. Then again he didn’t really trust his contact either. He called on Thursday night, positive he found the residence of a Mr. Nathan Steele, problem was no Mr. Steele was ever recorded owning that house. He introduced himself only as Bain.

 “Who are you?”

“ _You want to know something about me? Heh, heh, heh. That's funny. Whenever I tell you something, it'll be a lie to protect myself. If I told you the truth, you wouldn't believe me. But I can tell you one thing, my favourite color is blue.”_

“Not very indulging are you?”

“ _That’s how it has to be. Touchdown.”_ Dallas gripped the phone harder.

“You’re well connected. Now what is it that you want?”

“ _Whoa, easy Dallas, this isn’t a shakedown, it’s a proposition, one you’ll be quite happy with I think.”_

“I’m listening.”

“ _I know about your plan to rob your workplace the first world bank, it’s cute. Best leave that to the professionals huh? You’ll get a knock on your door about now, three of my associates were in the neighborhood and thought they’d drop by.”_

 

            Ice flooded Dallas’s veins, he switched the phone to his shoulder and picked up his B9-S slid out the clip to check and pulled the slide back.

“Which street are your men coming from?” he asked, voice icy.

“ _Paranoid aren’t you? Don’t worry, for a job like this you’ll need a crew, and I’ve got the best in the business. So have a seat and talk to them, if you like what they say we’ll put the plan into action.”_

“Fine, I’m keeping my pistol on hand though.”

“ _That’s fine, just keep your finger off the trigger, talent like this is expensive.”_

 

***

 

            The Swede arrived first, a wiry bald man about ten years Dallas’s junior with a scraggly beard and pointed nose. He didn’t quite have the careful gait of a career criminal but his eyes gave him away, tense anticipatory and... _feral_ for lack of a better word.

“Hey Dallas, Bain told you we were coming right? Guess not.” he revised eyeing the B9.

“No, he did. You one of the crew?”

“Bingo, Wolf at your service, Swede, tech expert, and professional lunatic.”

 

            Wolf entered the living room and took a seat in one of the bigger armchairs.

“You want some booze, or a beer maybe?” Dallas offered.

“No, but thank you.” he declined.

“I’ll go get one then.”

Dallas surveyed the fridge with a soft growl, hardly enough booze for entertaining guests. He took a bottle out and returned to the couch sliding the B9 onto the table, comfortably in reach just in case.

 

“So what’s your story?”  Dallas took a long swig from the bottle.

“Thought you’d never ask.” Wolf took a deep breath and prepared for a speech.

“For most of my 32 years of life I was the owner of a software company in Stockholme, you might’ve heard of it, SMIRK?”

Dallas shook his head.

“Well, things went well into the 2000’s until the goddamn recession hit. We started bleeding clients until one was left.” Wolf grimaced.

“They got cold feet and fucked me on payments, did everything to try and save it, personal loans, the whole nine yards, no fucking dice. They finally pulled out and we were thrown out on the goddamn street!” He was shouting now, fury in his eyes as raw as it had been two years ago.

            He took a deep breath and smiled, Dallas had met only a few people who could go from frothing mad to serene that quickly and none of them were good news.

“Tried to play the job market for a year or so, but those fucks won’t give you a second glance unless you’re a janitor with a P.H.D in janitoring. So I started doing heists, hooked up with Bain and never looked back.” He finished as calm as he began, the seconds ticked by as Dallas tried to understand what he just witnessed.

“So what’s yours Dallas? I expect it to be good since I just bared my fucking soul.” the smile was back in place.

 

            Dallas was about to answer when there was another knock. This one had a heavy frame but looked perfectly capable of crossing the room and blowing Wolf off the chair in seconds. He had a heavy brow, hair in a standard military buzz and coarse whiskers courtesy of a few days sans razor. Cold brown eyes stared back at him the hardness set him apart from the street thugs and Mafiosos Dallas typically dealt with, he could recognize ex-military when he saw it. _The face of a thug._ Dallas recalled, and how many times had he heard that phrase?

“Chains.” the merc clarified after Dallas looked him over.

 

“Ya want anything?” Dallas repeated.

“You have any whiskey?” Chains said.

“Just some Jack.”

“It’ll do.” Chains took a long guzzle.

“Ah, that’s the stuff.”

“So what branch are you from?” Dallas asked, Chains smirked. “Seals.”

Dallas gave a low whistle.

“Didn’t stay too long, something about an “itchy trigger finger” and a “bad temper”.”

Wolf  snickered, “”Bad Temper”, more like something about the instructor “pissing himself” over “a friendly throat slicing.””

“He was trying to be sneaky, Chains hates tricky.” Chains said. “And quit stealing my damn stories, can’t blow my load on the first date.”

 

Chains was interrupted by a loud smashing from the door.

“Open up ya wankers!” an irritated English accent shouted. When no answer came the pounding resumed. Dallas opened the door letting in the seething Brit.

“You left me with fucking Matt!’ he accused dropping four gym bags on the floor.

“Aww we thought we’d leave you two alone for a while, you have your first kiss yet?” Wolf pantomimed sloppily, Chains snorted into his whiskey.

“Grotesque as usual, but if you would kindly stop describing yourself to the sketch artist, we’ve got a pro’blem.” the Brit replied far too calmly for friendly banter. Chains raised an eyebrow.

“The cops are coming, probably something about a man lugging bags through private property, wankers.” he spat.

 

All the blood drained out of Wolf’s face and the line of Chain’s body went rigid. They immediately dove for two of the bags and ripped them open pulling guns and other equipment out with practiced ease along with two masks, a clown mask for Chains and a skull-like mask for Wolf the mouth splashed with red. Dallas was interrupted by the Brit shoving the fourth bag into his chest. “Merry Christmas wanker!”

 

Dallas unzipped the bag, another clown mask stared back at him. Eyes and mouth screwed into an amused sneer, the American flag emblazoned across the forehead. With the rest of the crew being foreign Dallas couldn’t help but smile, it just felt right.

“Let’s do this.”

He pulled out a red box and checked inside, gauze, bandages, and some vials.

“You just needed a fucking nanny?” Dallas called to the brit.

“Someone needs to change Wolf’s diapers.” he retorted without looking up from the scope of his rifle. Wolf blew a raspberry through his mask.

“ _Focus guys, you need to get ready to split, this wreck won’t hold forever.”_ Bain said into Dallas’s ear. _“Transmitter, you can hear me and I can see what you see.”_

 

The assault rifle was a bit light for Dallas’s taste. “An AMCAR? Was the slingshot too expensive?” “ _It’ll have to do Dallas we packed for subtlety, not bear hunting.”_ Dallas wrinkled his nose and flicked the safety off.

“So what’s his story?” he nodded to the Brit.

“Name’s Hoxton, just your average bloke who thinks jobs should be far between and pay well.” he interrupted.

“The hell’s “Hoxton” for?”

“For Hoxton where I got busted wanker, who the fuck am I? Gerbalis the executor of heists, and gerbils?”

“Point taken.”

 

            The familiar silhouette of an armored SWAT van rumbled to a stop outside the house, a uniformed SWAT responder hopped down from the passenger seat, helmeted head rose examining the house.

“This is the police! We have reason to believe you are harbouring a fugitive! Come out with your hands u-” The rifle round cracked against the sleepy evening and the responder staggered into the van and gently slid to the ground, the megaphone rolled across the pavement.

“THREE, WANKERS!” Hoxton yelled back and gunfire erupted.

 

            Bullets bit into the window frame sending flecks of splintered wood flying through the air. Dallas squeezed the trigger and sent some back, the cops ducked back behind the van.

 “Anytime Bain.”

“ _Okay, okay, I’ve got pickup coming, street behind you five minutes.”_

“We don’t _have_ five minutes!” Dallas hollered ducking his head on reflex as a bullet zipped far too close.

“ _You do, trust me.”_ Bain replied ominously.

“More cops!” Wolf warned and Dallas heard a metallic slithering sound.

“Flas-” Hoxton tried to call out.

 

            Dallas’s ears rang and finally Wolf’s voice came through like he was hearing it through a thick wall.

“ke! They’ve got thermal vision they can see through the smoke!” Thick blankets engulfed the front of the house, Chains pulled back as several assault rifle rounds ripped through the window.

“Hoxton! Follow me!” Dallas barked and tore for the stairs. The upper window had a nice view of the path, Dallas prepared to fire down on the advancing SWAT. A single tone sounded and an explosion sent three responders sprawling.

“FOUND MY PRESENT?” Wolf laughed. “DON’T WORRY THERE’S ENOUGH FOR ALL OF YOU!” he threw his head back and gave an honest-to-god wolf howl.

“He always do that?” Dallas grunted to Hox.

“Wait till he’s drunk he does elephants too, sounds like it’s fucking a car though.”

 

            The first assault wave fell back and only the occasional burst of fire came from the phalanx of SWAT vans.

“The cops are retreating!” Wolf cheered and began shoveling shells into the shotgun.

“ _One minute guys, what about the phones and computers Dallas?”_ Bain asked.

“Oh, I have that handled.”

“ _Fine, fine, get your asses out the back door.”_ Dallas heard the door open and the chilling whir of high voltage capacitors charging.

 

            He jerked violently as the taser unloaded into his body. He tried to warn Hoxton but the only thing that would come out was a strangled cry. He heard rifle shots and the taser jerked back, he fell to his knees gulping down precious air.

“Come on Dallas!” Hoxton called reaching down to him.

“Thanks.” he grunted as Hoxton pulled him towards the door.

“Hostiles on all sides!” Chains reported taking a few potshots at the surrounding cops.

A red hatchback pulled over behind them and flashed its lights.

“ _Your ride’s here go!”_ Bain ordered. Chains pulled something out of his bag, “Fire in the hole!”

 

            The grenade sent cops sprawling on all sides, “Go! Go!” Dallas ordered and the rest of the team sprinted through the convenient hole in the cop’s line. Bullets ripped through the air behind them, the bags went into the back and Wolf finally slammed the door. “We did it!” he gasped and broke down into nervous laughter. Tires squealed against pavement and the hatchback leapt forward weaving through the storm of bullets from behind.

 “ _Dallas! If they get their hands on the phone they’ll be on our ass before morning!”_

“Cool it.” Dallas ordered and fished a small remote out of his pocket.

“Suurprrisse! Mothafuckas!” he sang and slammed his thumb down. The final explosion of the night ripped through the house sending burning hunks of wood and broken shingles raining down on the SWAT force, the hiss of a ruptured gas line followed by fire as the ruined house ignited. The SWAT captain fished out his communicator watching the flames dance brightly against the night sky.

“Targets lost.”

 

“ _Great job guys! We got a little breather but now it’s time to work. You’re heading to a rendezvous in the business district, then they’ll bring you to the safehouse.”_

“Safehouse?”

“ _Safehouse, I’m a professional Dallas did you really believe I’d make you foot the bill?”_

“Something like that.”

“ _Heh, I’d hardly be a good eye in the sky if I didn’t prepare for every contingency._

_You’ll find it to your liking I hope, take your pick of the hardware and we’ll get ready.”_

“For what?” Dallas smiled letting Bain say it.

“ _Our payday.”_

 

 


	2. Kooks and Spooks

_September 18, 2011 First World Bank, New York, 4:12 P.M._

 

            Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside of Nathan Steele’s office. He prepared to close the laptop in case it was a co worker. Wolf strolled into the room, barely suppressed glee on his face. Dallas gave him a similar smile and tossed the second bag over. Masks went on, followed by body armor. Wolf heaved a Reinbeck 880 out of the bag and placed his Bronco 44 in a holster in his jacket.

            “You made me carry _that_ damn thing up the stairs?” Dallas asked.

            “I don’t trust just anyone with my baby.” Wolf crooned kissing the barrel.

            “Wench.”

Wolf chuckled softly.

 

            The AKM was a much more welcome weight in Dallas’s arms, even if it was a frankenstein-ish mashup of different models.

            “Where the hell did you get this Bain? I’m surprised you didn’t duct-tape the damn thing together.” Dallas said.

            “ _Our gun runner is a bit...eccentric. It’ll do the job though, you’ve been testing it all night.”_

He had, it may have had a Type 84 magazine and the muzzle brake of a 74 but he’d emptied 6 magazines in the range and it hadn’t jammed once. Wolf fished his trip mines out of the bag and Dallas slipped the Doctors bag into his jacket. _Showtime._

 

            The hallway seemed much longer than it normally was. Wolf walked beside him, head fixed forward, slightly hunched over, a close imitation of the opening to _Reservoir Dogs_ Dallas realized _._ Nobody in the offices noticed them, the stairs creaked pleasantly under their shoes. The mass of humanity at the tellers continued staring forward, oblivious. A few other customers turned for a second glance, fear contorting their faces as they slowly backed for the door. _Let them._

 

            He stopped in the middle of the lobby and faced the mass of patrons, he gave a sharp nod to Wolf. The Bronco 44 shot echoed over the bank, terrified faces swung behind at the two heisters, one holding a smoking revolver aimed at the ceiling, the other with hands behind his back ready for a speech.

            “This, is a holdup!” Dallas’s voice echoed across the dead silent lobby, not even a car engine to be heard. Hoxton and Dallas emerged from the surrounding rooms, shouts of “Get the fuck down!” filled the air but Dallas’s voice rose above all,

            “We want to hurt no one! We’re here for the bank’s money, not your money! Your money is insured by the federal government, you’re not gonna lose a dime! Think of your families, don’t risk your life! Don’t try to be a hero!”

 

            Wolf stood in the corner of the room, heart soaring at Dallas’s speech, the feeling came back, he was a victim no more, now he was the hunter.

            “Get down everyone.” he ordered, calm and confident, a professional like the movies before him. A fumbling movement from below caught his eye, a man in a business suit was lying on the floor groveling, his fingers tapping, _a cell phone._

            “GET THE FUCK DOWN!” Wolf shrieked, aiming a kick into the man’s spine. He gasped in pain and Wolf swiped up the phone, smashing it on a desk with the butt of his Reinbeck.

            “ _Disconnected 911 call, here come the cops._ ” Bain warned. Wolf swore in swedish and slammed his boot into a desk.

            “Chains, Hox, get the hostages into the room with the security gate, Wolf come with me!” Dallas ordered, Wolf leapt up and followed Dallas back the way they came to his office.

 

            The card slot flashed green and the door to the supply room swung open. Wolf slammed the butt of his shotgun into the camera, the plastic snapped and hung down sadly. Dallas swung around,

            “Keep it cool Wolf, we’re professionals.” he ordered.

            “ _Yes.”_ Wolf tried to reign in his frustration. Dallas nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. They reached the copier and Dallas allowed himself a sigh of relief, _right where I left it_. He loaded one jerry can into Wolf’s harness and Wolf in turn loaded his. He wrenched open the cabinet and nodded to Wolf. Wolf picked up the drill assembly. “You take point.”

 

            Wolf lugged the drill down the corridor, a guard leaned out mouth already open for the prepared speech. The sound of Dallas’s AK filled the tight space and the guard slumped, sliding down the wall. A pistol shot zipped past Wolf’s ear like an angry bee, Dallas shoved a hand into his back and spun around covering them with more fire. The stairs were rough but Wolf finally dropped the drill next to the security gate with a grateful sigh. Chains leaned out of the archway to his right and sent a short burst out into the barricade of multiplying SWAT vans. He nodded the all clear to Wolf and let him get to work.

 

            The pads came off first letting the powerful adhesive breathe, Wolf lined the bit up with the lock on the security gate and shoved forward with a grunt, the drill sunk a bit but stuck fast. He pulled on it a few times experimentally, satisfied he flipped the switch and the drill came to life with a metallic whrr. It hummed along merrily as it bit into the lock and the attached screen finally blinked on.

            “What are we looking at Wolf?” Chains barked from the archway.

            “Two and a half minutes, one, maybe two waves of SWAT assaults?”

Chains gave a satisfied grunt and dropped a fabric bag of pre loaded magazines on the metal detector.

 

            Hoxton took a breath, and let it out letting it calm him. He aimed his M308 into one of the banks open entrances, he lined up a SWAT officer yelling orders to his comrades. The bulbous black helmet danced behind the door frame tantalizingly. _Move wanker._ After a particularly violent gesture an ear slipped into the scope. The rifle bit into his shoulder, the cop crumpled neatly and the perforated helmet went sailing. Hox chuckled to himself, there was something about the little gesture that tickled him to no end. A line of SWAT stumbled as the lead man froze at his commander’s death. Hox swung the barrel over to the neat line,

            “Larry.” the first helmet shot off like a pez from a dispenser.

            “Moe.” a second followed the first reminding him of those little games at the carnival.

            “Curly.” he finished with a snort as the last helmet soared into the air and bapped a shield in the head sending him stumbling. The last two in the line rolled, Hox missed twice and cursed. Bullets bit into the balcony and he slid back into the safety of the corridor waiting for the cops to get bored.

            “ _I’ve marked out a laptop, use it to erase the security footage.”_ Bain ordered.

            “I’ve got it!” Dallas shouted over the covering fire. Hox crawled forward a bit to test the waters, a metallic clunking and several black shapes filled the doorway.

            “We’ve got a shield!”

 

            Wolf settled into a steady rhythm, Chains would poke his head out and gun down a squad of SWAT, Wolf would poke out his when Chains was reloading his Reinbeck sending cops sprawling across the floor. It was almost like an obscene version of a teeter-totter, each took their turn and Wolf’s gut hung on the edge, waiting for Chains to start firing again. He stuck out again but this time a black tower waited for him. The pellets bounced off the shield with a metallic screech followed by the whining clunk of a jammed drill.

            “It’s a fucking shield!” Wolf howled and dove for the safety of the metal detectors. The shield’s CMP barked and Wolf felt a few shots punch into his vest. He groped for holes and traced them through the layers, no breaches but he was going to be sore tomorrow.

 

            Chains swore and retreated slowly putting short bursts into the shield each time he tried to aim the smg. Wolf took a deep breath, and slid across the floor on his side. The Reinbeck roared and the shield crumbled.

            “Got the fucking shield!”

 

            Dallas slid across his desk and returned to the laptop he was using to case the bank. He danced across the keys, putting the program he had a friend developing for weeks to work. The program ground to a halt demanding a passcode. Dallas growled and hammered the enter key. He didn’t hear the sliding of a vent grate but did hear the heavy thump as the cloaker dropped into the hall. Dallas glanced up into his goggles, he almost didn’t seem real in the bright hallway decked out in all black. The goggles flashed green for a second and the cloaker sprinted, a piercing whining filling his radio that could only mean someone was about to have a bad fucking day.

 

            “Shit!” Dallas shouldered the AK and fired, he got a lucky shot to the cloakers chest he stumbled to the left. Dallas led to the left, the cloaker pushed off the wall and bolted back center, Dallas’s bullets met only plaster. The cloaker reached the office door and Dallas could see his mask reflected in those bright green goggles. _Aw fuck._

 

            The boot slammed into Dallas’s stomach, he skidded across the floor before slamming the back of his head into a cabinet. He wheezed ineffectually trying to get a breath. The cloaker flipped back onto his elbows and crawled over almost leisurely.

            “ _What’s left if you beat the shit out of a piece of shit?”_ the slightly mechanical voice mocked as he slammed the baton into Dallas’s temple.

 

            “ _Dallas needs help!”_ Bane warned. The drill finally spun back to life, Chains glanced at Wolf and nodded.

            “Oh hell no.” he begged. Chains grunted. Wolf swore and loaded two more shells into the breach of his Reinbeck.

 

            The smacking sound was coming from the office at the end of the hall, a figure was bobbing in and out of the window, Wolf raised the Reinbeck and tilted his head until he could finally see its head.

            “IT’S A MOTHERFUCKING CLOAKER!” Wolf shrieked, the shotgun roared smashing the window. The cloaker flinched and flipped over the desk. His compact-5 peeked out over the mahogany and barked, Wolf pulled back, he tried poking his head out but bullets bit into the plaster every time he tried.

            “Could use some help Hoxinator!” he yelled.

            “I’ve got enough shit on my hands wanker!” He howled back.

 

            Two SWAT members entered the battered office.

            “Take him.” the cloaker ordered finger arched over the fallen Dallas. Cuffs on each man grabbed an arm and none-to-gently began dragging the heister down the hallway.

 

            “They’re taking Dallas!” Wolf warned, a bubble of panic making his voice crack.

            “ _Don’t_!-” Bain started, the mic cut out and the oscillating death warble of a cloaker approached. Wolf shrieked wordlessly and slammed the pump on his shotgun as fast as he could. Shell after shell exploded down the hall, the cloaker kept coming. Wolf finally got a hit and the cloaker rolled smashing into the ground with a strangled cry.

            “GOT THE FUCKING CLOAKER!” he announced and slumped against the wall hands shuddering like leaves.

 

            He hurt, someone was dragging him, he always hated those damned tiles. Dallas struggled feebly, the cop on his left craned his neck and gave him a wary look. Two gunshots sounded and the cops crumbled. Dallas bit back a groan as his elbows slammed into the tile. Wolf scrambled to his side fumbling for the handcuff keys. The cuffs snapped open and he rubbed his wrists. A stock entered his vision and he took it,

            “Thanks my friend.” he mumbled to his savior, he sat against the wall trying to catch his breath.

            “Dallas! Follow me!” Wolf howled.

            “Give me a minute.” he muttered.

            “Dallas, we’ve gotta go!”

            “ _Give me a goddamn minute Wolf!”_ Dallas hissed.

            “Drill’s done!” Chains reported, Wolf looked back and forth confused.

            “Go and clear the vault offices, I need to erase the footage.” he ordered. Wolf gave a curt nod and sprinted down the hall.

 

            Command lines poured by each one made Dallas feel a little better. His fogged vision cleared up and the agony in his chest disappeared. A folder opened with the footage files, he found the one for the afternoon of the 18th. The secure delete prompt came and went, one day went missing.

            “Footage bricked.” Dallas reported and climbed out of the chair with a grunt and took a deep breath, he wasn’t 100% and would have a hell of a lot of bruises in the morning but he was back in fighting shape. “Let’s do it.”

 

            The inner sanctum of the first world bank was a moment to the security people enjoyed when times were good. Marble pillars sweeping to a high ceiling, rows of elevators on each side ready to keep things going smoothly. Dallas particularly liked how the acoustics affected the report of his AK, echoing back like the strong projection of an opera singer. The guard behind the security desk jerked and tumbled out of sight, others fell around him. Finally there was one. He was smarter than the others, immediately putting down his pistol and lacing his fingers over his head.

            “On your knees!” Chains bellowed, the man’s knees hit the floor with a muffled knock.

            “Now cuff yourself!” The guard obliged and hung his head, waiting for what fate had in store for him.

           

            “Good man, don’t be a hero and you don’t have to be afraid of us.” Dallas said not unkindly. Plenty of people like him were only doing their jobs, so he did his best to keep his word. Not mercy, he had settled that particular debate with himself long ago, it didn’t mean he had to be a psychopathic killer, professionalism meant something, even after those many years.

 

            Hoxton shoved a body aside and started flipping through channels getting nothing but static.

            “Shit, did you guys hit every camera?” Dallas asked.

            “You gotta have a little game to play while the cops take their sweet time.” Chains said.

 

            The red shag carpet flowed through two doorways and downward. A massive steel door sat sunken in the middle of the room. At least twenty feet long and ten feet tall, all of it made a pretty convincing “fuck off” sign.

            “I don’t see a fuckin doorbell.” Hox snarked.

            “How the hell are we gonna get in there?” Chains demanded. Dallas allowed himself a smug smile.

            “Gentlemen gentlemen, all we have to do is make our own VIP entrance.” he pointed at the offices above.

 

            The thermite was a bright rust red, Dallas was expecting it to look more like sand but this stuff was rough. Clumps held together like the gravel at a construction site. The can finally fell silent, he gave it a shake and tossed it aside.

            “Wolf.” he beckoned and snapped the harness, another waterfall of red began. When he was satisfied he had a good coverage he stuck out his arm forcing the other heisters back.

            “This shit burns worse than napalm, it gets on you you’re done.” he warned firmly and flicked the lighter.

 

            A bright flash lit up the hallway followed by the fwoosh of the reaction reaching its stride. Bright flames licked the inside of the office sending jets of sparks and molten metal through the landscape window. Wolf whistled,

            “Damn that’s awesome.”

            “The Goldschmidt process, making locks obsolete since 1893.” Dallas agreed.

            “So what now?” Chains asked.

            “We wait.”

 

            The minutes passed slowly, the reaction chugged along making krakatoa look like a fireworks display in comparison. Chains yanked off his mask and grabbed a bottle of water downing its contents in three huge gulps. Dallas followed suit and stared into the mirror, stretching his face around to inspect what damage the cloaker had done. A series of bruises were blossoming a crossed his cheek and jaw, he wasn’t looking forward to the next few days. He took out the cigarette and blew into the window with an amused chuckle, he liked how it looked.

 

Wolf slumped against the wall eyes closed taking a well deserved rest.

            “Hey rook, good job out there, cloakers are some nasty sons of bitches.” Chains said. A proud smile lit up Wolf’s face.

            “I wasn’t totally on board when Bain brought your ass in, but I’m good now. We can build you into a heister for the record books.”

            “Better cancel my fuckin preorder than.” Hox mumbled through a cigarette, his lips curled in an amused grin around it. Chains snorted in amusement. Dallas gave a wheezy chuckle letting the adrenaline crash have its way.

 

            “ _Guys the police radio’s buzzing like crazy, I think they’re preparing an assault.”_ Bain warned. Masks went back on, Dallas took a final deep stretch.

            “Time to earn our payday.”

Boots thumped loudly against the tile, voices buzzed as orders were given and taken. Dallas raised the AK expecting cops to flood through the entrances like a hole in a dike. The footsteps stopped and a heavier gait thudded.

            “ _ONLY FOUR OF THEM?!”_ the voice crackled over the proximity radio. Chains met Dallas’s eyes with an uncharacteristic hesitancy.

            “ _ELITE DOZER GET OUTTA THE WAY!”_ the gang stepped back carefully, nobody made a sound. Footsteps thudded against the tile all eyes found the left entrance. The bulldozer stomped into the door, seven feet tall, covered head to toe in a reinforced bomb resistant suit, he held a shotgun even larger than Wolf’s. His head swiveled to the heisters, bomb plate painted in a mocking X_X pattern, a single armored finger raised in challenge.

            “YOU’RE UP AGAINST THE WALL. AND I AM _THE_. _FUCKING_. _WALL_!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked the helmet popping scene, that was the only role I ever played in First World Bank, camping out on the balcony with an M308 sending helmets flying, probably my favorite part of the game.
> 
> Fellow Payday: The Heist veterans might notice that the special units aren't from the original, I think the second had much better designs and plus it lets me have fun with their quotes. In particular the bulldozer's entrance really wouldn't have worked if I stuck to the original design, the originals looked like the astronaut ghost from Scooby Doo: Where Are You?  
> ___  
> 


	3. The Sweet Smell of Success

_September 18, 2011 First World Bank, New York, 5:27 P.M._

The hallway echoes with the Bulldozer’s challenge, one credit to them so far, they could talk the talk. Dallas reflexively sized up the armored figure, and from the joint protection and the enveloping armor he could probably walk the walk. He mentally cursed himself, none of the plans they’d worked on even acknowledged bulldozers. It was a rookie mistake.

Here’s to hope that it didn’t get them killed.

He peeked his head up for another look, the shotgun exploded over his head shattering a window. Broken glass sprinkled his back, his ears buzzed uncomfortably. Chains popped the 47 over the railing and put a few bursts down range. A couple of muted “swiffs” and a louder ricochet answered and the Bulldozer laughed.

“THAT ALMOST TICKLED! HERE’S HOW IT’S DONE!” the shotgun took a hunk of plaster the size of a bowling ball off a pillar, Chains flinched and dropped back into cover.

“AWW, ITTY BITTY ROBBERS SCARWED? I’LL KISS IT AND MAKE IT BETTER!” slow but firm footsteps began approaching.

“How the hell are we going to deal with this fucker?” Chains hissed. Dallas racked his brains, no single weapon they had had enough bite to take down something that heavily armored. Hox’s face was twisted into an ugly grimace and Wolf was...smiling? _Wha? Ohh._

 _Com’on bitch com’onn._ he mouthed.

 

The bulldozer’s footsteps stopped. Dallas held his breath waiting. The bulldozer laughed again.

“NICE TRY BASTARDS!” he crowed and the shotgun went off. The trip mine detonated sending ceiling tiles clattering to the floor, Wolf’s face shifted to the color of fresh concrete. Dallas took the moment of gloating to turn around, he wasn’t sure with the gunshots ringing in his ears but he didn’t think he could hear the thermite anymore…

“EYES BACK HERE!” the bulldozer punctuated with another shotgun blast. Dallas gathered up his wits and got ready to dive into the hallway. It was a long shot but better than nothing.

“Wolf! Get your stupid ass back here!” Chains said. Dallas shook it off and looked to the side.

 

Wolf rolled to the side down the hallway from the Bulldozer, he gave another one of those howls and pulled up one of the discarded riot shields and charged.

“Wolf, what the hell are you doing!” Chains shouted. The Swede didn’t spare him a glance and kept on running, shotgun blazing.

 

To Wolf’s credit the Bulldozer didn’t laugh, he took careful aim and fired. The first blast wrenched the shield out of the heister’s hands with a loud screech of metal. The second sent him spinning dizzily onto the ground.

“Six!” Hoxton barked and popped out of cover, taking careful aim with the M308. The Bulldozer swung the shotgun around, the chamber clicked empty, bullets struck plaster and armor with soft puffs of dust. The bomb plate over the Bulldozer’s helmet shattered,

“Damn it!” he growled and dropped the shotgun raising his arm to protect his face.

“Back you foucker! Back!”  

The Bulldozer stepped backwards towards the lobby, never giving Hoxton a clear shot at his face. Hoxton fired again almost hitting a rushing cop in the head.

“You too wanker! Stay the fuck back!” he nodded to Dallas.

 

Dallas finished dragging Wolf back into cover and began stripping away the suit. Wolf groaned in pain, the kevlar was intact but barely, small holes decorated the right side of his stomach plenty staining red on the inside of the suit. It wasn’t bad but Dallas knew even small caliber rounds felt like a hammer blow through kevlar, a shotgun blast was like a car crash.

“He’ll live but we need to get the hell out of here!” Chains assessed and put another burst into the hallway to dissuade another overeager cop.

“- _Guys? Guys!”_ Bain’s voice crackled back on the radio, “ _They got a Bulldozer!”_

“Got it, thanks!” Dallas snarled, “Where the hell were you?”

“ _Interference, got back as soon as I could, what the hell’s going on?”_

“Wolf got hit.”

“ _Fuck! Wait, the vault’s on a timed delay, is the thermite done?”_ Dallas took a second to listen now that there wasn’t constant gunfire.

“Think so.”

“ _Get in there then, it’ll buy you a few minutes.”_

“Hurry Chains!” Dallas called.

“Give me a second, usually Wolf sets these damn things!” Chains shouted back crouching over the last mine. The red laser blinked on and Chains returned to the office. The  thermite had gouged a four foot hole in the floor, the edges still glowed with residual heat in contrast to the singed carpet. Dallas nodded to Hoxton, he took a gingerly leap with a soft grunt at the bottom. Dallas waited and a heavy screech and crash noted a cabinet being pushed over.

“Come’on down!”

 

The air was uncomfortably warm for a second and then Dallas’s knees hit solid ground. Wolf gasped as his knees crumpled, Chains landed with a soft grunt. The vault had a low ceiling, Dallas wasn’t NBA material and his head almost brushed it, Chains had to bend over slightly. The room was also full of deposit boxes, rows and rows of shelves, one of which was bridging the molten hole the thermit had burned through the floor. The massive vault doors loomed in the dimness, opposite to a high security cage, mercifully open. A table about seven feet long sat in the middle of another wall of deposit boxes, and on the table still stacked for transport were five cubes of green.

 

“Ripe for the taking.” Dallas muttered exchanging a greedy smile with Hoxton. Chains let out a barking laugh probably the closest to joy he’d heard, Wolf gave a weak chuckle that dissolved into a coughing fit.

“Okay, Chains give me a hand with Wolf, Hox start cleaning house.”

“Right O.” Hoxton said and began cutting ties shoveling stacks of money into a duffle bag. Dallas and Chains slung Wolf onto the table, the wounded heister only let out a slight groan of pain, the first aid kit came out and Chains started cutting the vest away.

 

Wolf’s side was a beaten mass of dried blood and purple welts, a few new splashes decorated the vest and dress shirt, Chains gave a soft tap eliciting a hissing breath.

“Cracked rib at least, all the buck looks like it hit below though.”

“No chest wound then, it’s something I guess.” Dallas muttered as Chains pulled out a new vest and some bandaging.

“What the fuck were you thinking rook? Charging a goddamn bulldozer is suicide, this isn’t a fucking movie.”

“Drew fire.” Wolf coughed, “Hox.”

“Bullshit.” Chains said. “I know the look of a man playing an angle, that shit wasn’t you, you were _shocked_ when that thing shot you.” He shook his head. “We’ll worry about this shit later, if you do something that stupid again I can’t guarantee I’m going to save you.” He turned and grabbed a duffle bag. “All yours Dallas, get him patched up, Bain said we’re on the clock.”

“ _Actually no, they aren’t opening the vault yet.”_ Bain’s voice floated in over the radio. “ _That’s….suspiciously convenient, stay frosty guys, I have a bad feeling about this._ ” A crash sounded from the thermite hole followed by a familiar voice.

“ALL PATCHED UP AND BACK TO FINISH THE JOB!”

“Greeat our best friend is back.” Dallas sighed and slammed another magazine into the AK. “Chains, follow me. I have an idea.”

 

Heavy footsteps plodded behind a cabinet. Dallas darted across a corridor, a shotgun sounded.

“NOWHERE TO RUN NOW!” Dallas scrambled through another corridor, he caught a glimpse of the bulldozer, new faceplate in place, no mocking face though. The shotgun fired again, shot clipped Dallas’s vest slamming into his back, he gritted his teeth and turned again. The hole burned in the ground gaped open in front of him.

“CHECKMATE!” The shotgun roared, Dallas dived to the side, buckshot clipped his leg, he let out a loud cry of pain. More footsteps, and some amused chuckling. Ten feet. Five. Dallas gritted his teeth.

“Wrong way!” Chain’s voice snaked in. Wolf’s shotgun roared, the Bulldozer’s steps faltered.

“USELESS!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Chains fired his AK in a few short bursts. Dallas waited, eyes closed.

The bulldozer may have been an unstoppable brick wall against gunfire, but the human mind isn’t so easily deprogrammed. Even to the most daring and hardened fighter, when someone takes shots at you your first reflex is to step back. It’s like the Doctor’s mallet to the knee, you just can’t help it.

 

 _Now_. Dallas shoved a fallen one row filing cabinet into the corridor and watched the back of the Bulldozer’s boot approach. It struck like a hammer, he let out a cry of surprise and rage arms windmilling. Chains charged forward and rammed into the armored suit in a shoulder tackle. There was a snap of metal as the shelf gave way and the Bulldozer landed in the thermite hole like a ton of bricks.

 

Chains kicked up the dropped shotgun, the Bulldozer struggled feebly paralyzed by the weight of his own protection.

“DAMN IT! I’LL GET YOU!”

“Not today bitch!” Chains growled. “Yo Dallas, you cool?” Dallas gave a real groan of pain this time, massaging his temple where the Bulldozer’s flailing had slammed his head into a deposit box.

“Peachy.” Chains pulled him to his feet, “Nice work.” Dallas clapped his shoulder.

 

“If you ladies are done snogging, I think it’s time to leave.” Hox threw a duffle bag to each heister. Dallas zipped it open and took a long  sniff of familiar green.

“Thanks rook.” Chains said and tossed Wolf back his Reinbeck.

“Aw, did you miss daddy?” Wolf cooed running his lips over the barrel, he limped slightly but at least he was on his feet again.

“YOU’LL NEVER ESCAPE!” the captive bulldozer howled ineffectually.

“Hey, can I kill this focker?” Hox asked.

“Nah, running low on ammo.” Chains muttered running his hands over the bandoliers.

“Pity.”

“ _Alright guys, the doors are going to open in 30, be ready.”_

 

The doors creaked open slowly, Dallas could practically hear the collective held breath of the cops waiting for movement. He tossed a discarded helmet across the carpet, gunfire filled the hall, puffs of dust marked where each bullet struck the floor, broken glass spewed across the floor.

“Hold! HOLD!” the fire stopped. “They’re trying to make us waste bu-” There was a flash of bright light from the helmet and the concussion punched Dallas in the ears even through his hands. Muffled cries of pain and confusion rang out. Hoxton leaned out and took shots at the stunned cops, Chains stepped out and threw another repurposed flashbang up and behind him before scaling the stairs, AK firing steadily. The others followed each man handling one quadrant. The swat held for a moment but began pulling back through the lobby and into the outer corridor.

“Out!” Dallas shouted when his gun clicked empty and he kicked up a fallen swat’s AMCAR with a grunt of disgust.

“ _They’re pulling back! You showed em!”_ Bain reported.

“Okay, how the hell do we get out of here?” Chains asked covering the only hall in. “The cops aren’t stupid they’re gonna have a small army watching the door.” Dallas paced his mind racing. He stepped on a stray cable and almost slipped.

“Son of a bi-” he started but followed the rapple cable to a cracked elevator door.

“That’s our ticket out of here.” he pointed.

 

The laptop survived the heist, thank god. He plugged it into the reception console and prayed his codes still worked. Three wrong passwords later he swore.

“Bain, i’m locked out!”

“ _On it, this might take a minute.”_

“Quicker!” Dallas demanded.

“ _This isn’t Ocean’s 11 Dallas!”_

“I can’t keep this shit up for long!” Chains warned as he fired into the hall.

“It looks like we need my surprise then.” Wolf smiled and held up a matte black briefcase. He pressed a button and it gave an acknowledging chirp, he sat it on the desk and opened it to reveal a high capacity magazine.

“Stay away from the door.” he ordered. A cop poked a curious head out the door and recoiled as the sentry gun sprayed a burst into the wall behind him.

 _“Almost...got it.”_ Bain mumbled into the mic. A vent cover fell to the floor with a crash, and a thump announced a body falling.

“We got a cloaker!” Hoxton yelled. Chains turned and unloaded with his AK, the cloaker zipped between pillars.

“Shit!” The radio warbling started again and the cloaker charged Hoxton.

 

Too quick to reload, Chain’s eyes darted around desperately, he found an idea. He got up and charged the cloaker from the side. Green googles flashed around and the cloaker skidded on his feet. Not fast enough though, Chains slammed a shoulder into him and the cloaker went sprawling, he spun as his body slid over the open elevator shaft. With a yelp of surprise he hooked his fingers into the grating of the doorstop. Chains swaggered over and looked over the edge.

“Rule one of military training, watch your flanks.” he said and stomped on the black-gloved fingers. With a cry of pain and a dwindlng scream the cloaker fell out of sight. A distant thud followed a second later.

 

“ _Got it!”_ Bain radioed, the elevator door to the left screeched open and they could see the cables dangling loosely.

“Chains, Hox, get up there, third floor!” Dallas ordered. Both nodded affirmation and started climbing the maintenance ladder.

“Wolf.” Dallas said. Wolf nodded from the ground but recoiled sharply when he tried to get up. “Shit. Shit. Shit.”

“Get going Dallas, I’ll be fine.” Wolf said weakly. For a second he considered it.

“No, I’m not leaving anyone else to the cops.” he replied. “Bain, bring the elevator up to subfloor A.”

 _“There is no subfloor A Dallas.”_ Bain said.

“Yes there is, the lazy pricks in business management just keep forgetting to add it to the registery. Code is 8528.”

“ _Okay…”_ Bain said. “ _Wait, there it is, shit.”_

“We’re golden then, come on Wolf!” he grabbed the wounded heister and helped him up, the top of the elevator shuddered  into view. He leapt down with a grunt and lowered Wolf as carefully as he could.

“Go, go!” he shouted over the comm as the sentry gun clicked empty and bullets sprayed the lobby. He spread his arms to cover Wolf, a few punched his vest but the elevator lurched and they rose out of view.

 

The elevator ground to a halt and the door opened. Wolf rolled out of the shaft and fell a few feet to the floor. Dallas slid the duffel bag out and shoved an AMCAR into Hoxton’s hands.

“Sorry buddy, it’s all we got though. Let’s move!” Dallas’s office came into view.

“Get clear!” Dallas yelled and pressed another button. The tile wall erupted inward with a concussive smack and a screen of dust. Hoxton and Chains holding Wolf scrambled through the hole. A familiar sound rose above the ambience, “God damn it.”

 

Electricity arched through him and he collapsed, unable to see the  taser through the dust. A gun barked out and the taser fell back with a thud. Wolf kept the Bronco in his hands.

“Shit, good shot rook.” Chains said and picked Wolf back up, the Swede grimaced.

“Thanks buddy.” Dallas said. “Car’s down this hall, we’re almost home!”

 

“Opening the fucking door Matt!” Hoxton shouted over the comm, the doors of a red Mercedes swung open and they arranged Wolf as well as they could on his money bed. A swat officer crested the door and snapped up his gun.

“Go, go!” the wheels screeched and the car leapt forward. A few cop cars stood in a barricade but Matt threaded the needle sending a cop diving for cover.

 

Dallas watched as his former workplace vanished into the distance. The adrenaline faded leaving him thin and shaky, nonetheless he broke out into a heady laugh.

“We did it!”

“ _You guys were a four man army! You’ve earned your payday.”_ Bain said with a tone very close to pride. Dallas took one of the duffel bags and unzipped it bringing it up to his face and taking another great sniff of green. _The sweet smell of success._

“Bain?”

“ _Yeah Dallas?”_

“I think this is the start of a beautiful friendship.”

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: 1/14, Wow the response to this has been fantastic, looks like I have to push this series forward on the writing priority queue. 
> 
> I can write the words but I can't get the prospective of an outside reader myself. Consider leaving a review it helps me out a ton, getting better at writing is much faster when I'm not metaphorically groping blindly for progress.


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